So, we had an exciting weekend. We got to take Daddy to the airport twice on Sunday. Yes, twice. He forgot an integral piece of the puzzle required for his work trip, and thankfully remembered it right before we got to the airport as opposed to after we’d dropped him off and he’d gotten through Security.
So, we get off the main highway headed toward the airport and get back on the highway and head back home. “Yea! Daddy’s not going to London!” Claire shouts from the backseat. “Nope, sorry. Daddy’s still going to London. Hopefully he catches his plane in time,” I said.
Luckily, he did. That was a relief.
That evening, we’d already been invited to a Playdate/Dinner Party at a friends’ house. We opted to go sans Daddy. This was actually the perfect prescription for Claire. She missed Daddy, but she was thrilled to play with her friends.
This time, three families gathered for the evening festivities. There was a 5-½ year old boy, a 3 year old girl, a 2-½ year old boy and two 2 yr old girls (including Claire). There was also an 8-month old boy.
The old me would have been like, “Is that Dante over there? Wait…which Circle is this?” The new me was glad that Claire had other kids to play with. They weren’t all siblings to each other, so there was no fighting. It was awesome.
It was the perfect mix of ages, and the kids had a blast playing and eating and playing some more together. (The 8-month old spent a lot of time in the sling or being passed from adult to adult. He was in that perfect age where he was so smiley and easy-go-lucky.)
It was a nice, relaxing evening of food, fun and great conversation. It was just what we needed.
After the party, Claire and I came home and we got ready for bed. She went down with no troubles, even though she really missed Daddy.
Midnight rolled around, and I checked the online flight status page: Flight landed. I sighed a huge sigh of relief. I realize that me watching the status page has no bearing on whether or not the plane lands on time, but I like knowing. It’s harder for me to sleep if I don’t know.
It’s early Monday morning, and I’m finally in bed. Morning will be here soon. Must get to sleep…..
2:41 a.m. my cell phone rings. I jolt awake and scramble for the phone. I flip it open and see my hubby’s name. I press Talk.
“Hello?”
He’s all apologetic for waking me up. He asks if it’s like, what 4 or 5am there? “Nope,” I say. “It’s 2:41. In the morning.” Then, he’s even more apologetic.
“No worries,” I reassure him. And, I mean it. I’d told him to never hesitate to call me if he needs something. He knows to call the cell phone rather than do the math in his head. If I’m asleep, my cell phone will wake me up, but Claire will not be disturbed by the house phone. If I’m out and about, he doesn’t have to waste time trying the home phone if he calls my cell. It works.
“What’s up? You made it!” I feel so relieved to hear his voice.
He explains that the flight was pleasantly uneventful and that he’d found the proper trains. He had a question for me, though…
“Have you done the shredding yet?”
I laughed to myself, picturing me in my robe shredding things while Claire slept in the next room.
“Uh, no…” I said. I usually do that on Mondays so that the pile doesn’t get out of control. Sometimes I do that on Saturday to get a jump on the week ahead, but he was in luck. I hadn’t had time this weekend.
“Good,” he said. “I need you to find something for me. For some reason my PIN is not working on my Corporate Card, so I’m afraid I have it wrong. Could you check the paper that the PIN came on? It’s in the To Be Shredded pile in your office.”
“Sure,” I said, as I stumbled around in the dark, the back-light from my phone on my cheek nearly blinding me in the dark.
In my office, I’m looking through one eye squinting at the pile of papers. He’s talking in my ear about the flight and trains and general stuff.
“You really sound awake,” I said, realizing that I didn’t.
“I feel a lot better this time than last time,” he said.
“That’s good. You know? I can’t find this paper anywhere. Are you sure you put it in my office?”
“Oh…I should have told you. It’s the size of a postage stamp!” he said.
“WHAT!?” That little piece of information would have been helpful at the beginning of this task.
“I kinda already tore that page up and put just the part with the PIN in your office. It should be near the top of the pile. It’s a teeny tiny piece of paper.”
Sure enough, there it was. I wasn’t looking for something so small! I read him the number.
“Hmmm, that’s the number I tried. Maybe there was something wrong with the ATM I was using. I’ll try it again later today. I have another favor to ask…”
“Sure. Whatever you need. I’m starting to feel a little more awake,” I said, fibbing but not wanting the conversation to end.
“Okay, well, for some reason, the network isn’t working with the address book on this phone, and all the numbers I programmed into it are not available. I need to you go downstairs and look at one of the notebooks on my desk.”
I know that my hubby carries a notebook with him for work. He keeps all his meeting notes and objectives and To Do’s in it. So, I know kinda of what he’s talking about. I go downstairs, and as I’m almost to his office, he says, “I’m going to apologize in advance…”
“Uh oh. What does that mean?” I ask. I mean, what could be worse than trying to find a piece of paper the size of a postage stamp in my shredding pile?
“Let’s just say that my coworkers tease me that my notebooks are encrypted…” he said.
“Oh no. Is this like the grocery list??” I ask, knowing that I often need to have help deciphering his scratches if I’m the one that goes to the store.
“Worse,” he said, laughing.
“Ooohhh noooooo… Fine. Tell me what I’m looking for.”
“A person’s name and their cell phone number…”
He proceeded to tell me where he thought it would be written and what it may look like. I found something that may fit the criteria and tried to read it to him. He wasn’t sure if that was right, because it sounded like an office number. So I flipped through even more pages in the book.
“You’re either insane…or a direct descendent of Leonardo Da Vinci…” I muttered under my breath, but actually amused at his scribbles.
“I said I was sorry before you even started looking…” He said. I could tell he was smiling.
“It’s okay. I’m just giving you a hard time. I think I found something that looks like that person’s name and another foreign phone number.”
And, with that, he went off on the next part of his adventure and I went back to bed. Morning was even closer now, and it was even harder to fall asleep, but I was glad to help and relieved to hear his voice.
As it turns out, the PIN worked just fine in a different machine, and I’d successfully deciphered the phone numbers….with squinty eyes…through a groggy haze…at 2:41 a.m.
And, when he called us 12-hours later, he was the one that sounded groggy. He’d successfully stayed up until a decent hour local time and was ready for bed.
Claire got on the phone and said, “I love you so much, Daddy. I’m sad. I miss you.”
Through the phone, I could hear his heart squeaking as it twisted in his chest. “I love you so much too, Claire. I’ll be home before you know it.”
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